Chapter 2

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Celine glanced over at the woman before her eyes went back to him. Those eyes, once shielded, had become that of child's. Even her posture seemed off, as if the impurity was sucked right out of her. "Who's Celine?" Just by chance, she answered the question.

The woman-- who he recalled said was Mrs. Cavell during their conversation over the phone-- shook her head slightly. This night is getting better and better. Sitting down next to Celine, he traced a finger over his ring. "Then what is your name?" He spoke to her in that low, soothing tone used only for little ones and the dead.

She froze. The question had stumped her, and no matter how many times she may look back, she could find nothing. Her eyes averted over to the television, tuning into that instead. Registering a few keys words was enough for an answer. "T-"

Mrs. Cavell leaned in and whispered in her ear in a tone to low for straining ears. Celine nodded, a smile that said I know something growing on her face. She stared Dean down before speaking out confidently, "Dawn. My name is Dawn." For a second he thought he could see the old fire behind her eyes.

He looked her over, amazed that this person could look like Celine, yet acted nothing like her. Each time he would do another once over, a voice-- most likely the doctor from his harsh, low tone-- would apprise him. "I'm sorry to say the accident Ms. Grantsfield was in caused trauma to the head..." The other voice was wary, but all the same. "The issue was more serious then anyone could realize. Mr. Harlow, she has Amnesia." The words left a bad taste in his mouth.

Mrs. Cavell suddenly stood, winked at Dean, and walked away as if she was intruding something. He thanked and cursed the woman out mentally, wondering what went on in her head to bring on such a thought. Awkwardly, he sat down next to "Dawn," trying to keep as much space as possible as she had went back to nestling into the couch. Neither said a word, and for a while it stayed that way, with him distracting himself with the television and her with the couch. When he built up the nerves to look at her he saw a sleeping angel.

Every now and then she would start up in her sleep, tossing and turning or even the occasional mutter. Meanwhile, the television and rain were at a constant battle to see who could make the most ruckus. He went back to watching the news, which was droning on about the weather. Nothing really peaked his interests as politics wasn't his strong point, though he listened in to some strange accidents that had been happening in the area. By three the television was clearly in the lead...

The light gleaming into his eyes was a rude awakening that he was not quite used too. His first thought automatically came to be how many drinks did I have last night? Before he opened his eyes, recalling last night's events. He had fallen asleep somewhere after three though he hadn't the foggiest idea when. Glancing over, the corners of his lips raised slightly as he gazed at her peaceful form. "Dawn? Dawn, it's time to wake up now." His hushed tone had suggested he had something different on his mind.

Dawn stirred, the familiar voice waking her from her slumber. The voice was disorientating as if she was underwater. The voice restated the phrase, becoming audible enough. "Dawn, it's time to wake up." Rubbing her eyes, she was greeted to two pools of blue.
"Morning." She mumbled half awake, blinking the sleep away from her eyes.

Adjusting to the luminescent room, she noted nothing had changed. Even the television flickered with commercials of soda pop and restaurants. Something, or rather someone, grabbed her hand before pulling her off the couch. Dragged into the morning light, she looked back to the house before staring into a thick head of black hair. "Dean, where're we going?"

"We ARE leaving." He managed to stress through his muffled voice.

A silver car purred in front of the gate, the person behind the wheel honking the horn. She slipped into the back seat and eyed the woman who would every so often glance nonchalantly into interior rear view mirror. The woman eased forward, and they began on their travel. She and Dean had to be on familiar terms as she noted that they kept a steady conversation, and that one would start up laughing from something the other had said. Dawn then decided to pay more attention on the blurred green scenery out the window then interrupt.

For the longest time the environment would shift constantly to lush greens to vibrant structures before the car pulled into a drive way. The cars engine stopped, a door opened and closed, and she watched Dean walk into a brightly colored house. The driver turned around, giving her a gleaming, soft smile. "Glad to see your okay, Celine." It was the second time now she had heard this name.

Dawn opened the door, stepping out with a quiet, "Thank you," and a returning smile as she quickened her pace to catch up. Behind her, the engine revved back up and pulled out of the parking spot.

Opening the door, she peeked inside, wary of the new environment. If Dean came in, it should be alright. Stepping inside dubiously, she studied the area before exploring. The house was monumental, and filled with various trinkets of the sorts. A door opened from one of the back rooms, where she peeked in. Why is she coming through here? "Hi Celine." Her cheerful attitude was starting to be normal.

"My name's Dawn Miss." She finished examining the kitchen and opened up the fridge, pulling out a water bottle. Twisting open the cap, she took a few large sips, eyeing the female once more. She was a bonny younger person, with her short black hair style and matching clothes.

"Well I'm Nadia, it's nice to meet you Dawn." Dean walked in and froze.

He glanced between the two and smiled wryly. "I see you girls are getting along." He pulled out a box of cereal and chuckled. "Thats good, I was worried we were going to turn into one of those drama sitcoms." Pulling out three bowls, he poured corn flakes into each of the glass bowls. "Roommates should be able to get along right?" He glanced between the two before holding up two bowls. "Now, who wants breakfast?"

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